Flying Instinct
by kk13kazuki
Summary: It's the year 2049, a feud between the Earth Forces and the GEMs,Genetic Efficient Models, is quickly escalating into an inevitable war. As rookie pilots for the Earth Forces, what choices will the war force Danielle Devonston and her friends to make?
1. Chapter 1

**This is a story I've been working on for the past year (in between school and other things) and have just recently completed. It is inspired by Gundam Seed/Destiny. In the story, however, only the idea of a mobile suit is borrowed while all characters and storyline are original. Like Gundam, I try to explore the relationships between the characters rather than focusing on the machinery battles.**

**The story revolves around Danielle Devonston and her friends who are apart of the Earth forces situated on the moon (as to why it'll be explained later). At the begining of the story the time is 2049 and Danielle and friends are just joining the military, having graduated from the Military Academy. I'll try to post a bit background about the story with each chapter and perhaps about the characters as well.**

**I really hope you like it, it may be different from most fanfiction because it doesn't involved any of the anime characters. But I did put a lot of effort into this and it's the first time I've completed a story (if you read on and count the chapters you'll see what I mean). Enough babbling from me, go ahead and enjoy, comments and criticisms are greatly appreciated.**

--

There is no longer pain to be felt. As Danielle lies on the white sheets with 2 plastic tubes running up her nose, she made a decision for herself. From then on, she is going to be in charge of her life. In charge, completely. That is the exact moment she chose to become who she is to become years later.

Over her blurry vision she sees a tall figure coming into the room and converses with the nurses and doctors. The character's head seems to possess a golden aura under the florescent light.

She is now alone in this world, alone, by herself, and she is going to be in control of her own destiny. As the man with the blond hair approaches her bed, she tries to get a better look at him, but a wave of nausea grips her and forces her eyes shut. Unwillingly, she allows the darkness to swallow her.

She sits anxiously in the chair, awaiting the man on the other side of the door. Her hazel eyes hidden behind closed eyelids; her rosy lips enveloping perfect white teeth to which the braces came off only last month. Black, with hints of golden brown from natural highlights, her hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail.

Wearing almost no make-up, except a hint of mascara, she looks like a well preserved porcelain doll. Everyone always says her cheeks possess a natural blush.

She slowly opens her eyes, blinks once, and checks her watch. 10:18, they're 3 minutes late. She taps her heel impatiently and walks over to the tall, standing mirror.

_Everything looks alright for the occasion,_ she studies her own reflection, desperate to make sure nothing is out of place. With one last anxious glance at her white sneakers, faded blue jeans, grey sweater, and the red baseball cap that puts half of her face in shade, she walks back to the chair and sits down.

10:25. The door opens and a boy walks out. Upon seeing her his face instantly brightens up, showing a genuine smile extending to his brown eyes. She returns a vague grin, betraying her nervousness.

"We're ready for you," the secretary calls over the intercom, "Ms. Devonston, please come in."


	2. Chapter 2

**So here's the next chapter. The last little chunk I posted was intended to be the prologue but I don't think lets me do that. So meh. And like I promised, here's a little background info that'll make it easier to understand the storyline.**

**Timeline (part of it) leading up to the story in present:**

**2036 -the Earth government wanted to create the "perfect fighting troop" using genetic modification**

**-the Devonstons (Danielle's parents) were among the scientists recruited to work at Lab Everest at Lake Erie**

**2039 -the 1st production was a disaster, almost all produced Genetically Artificial Models (GAMs) were defects (badly mutated)**

**-being in charge of the project, Wade Robespierre had them destroyed (burned in the forest)**

**2041 -the 2nd production, the Genetically Efficient Models (GEMs) were successfully created**

**-Lab Erie received top funding and began to mass creating models for military uses**

**This is it for now, I don't want to give away too much. Most of the background info will be discussed later in the story in great detail anyway. Again, comments and criticisms are greatly appreciated.**

--

"Please sit." The man in the velvet cushioned chair says.

She nods and obeys, first crosses her legs, then uncrosses them.

"You nervous?" He pulls out a folder.

"Hmm..." She is nervous indeed.

"Don't be." The man interrupts before she can deny. He takes one peak at her files, looks up and smiles, "This really isn't an interview or anything. If it makes you feel any easier, we have already accepted your application."

She tries to hide the surprise but fails miserably. "Really?"

"Of course. Someone with your grades," he puts the folder down, "even without much field experience."

She lets herself be soothed under his warm voice and studies the man's face. He has the kind look of an uncle, heck, maybe even an older brother. His sleek black hair is spotted with few early greys and lines are just appearing out of the corner of his eyes, made visible every time his pale lips part into a welcoming smile.

"...but then again, nobody expected a war to break out so sudden. Don't you think?" His hands neatly folded on the table.

"Erm, no." She timidly answers.

Noticing her quietness, he ponders her face carefully. "How inconsiderate of me," he smiles broadly, "started asking you questions without even introducing myself." he holds out his left hand.

She takes his hand, not knowing what to say. He has a strong grip, sending warmth and reassurance through touch.

"Wade Robespierre. Director of militia."

"Nice to meet you." It surprises her how young the director appears to be. He must have done great things to have achieved this position so early on in life.

"Likewise." He flips open the folder again, this time holding out a single sheet of paper. "Danielle Devonston."

"Yes."

"Born 2031. 2044, enrols into Royal Earth Military Academy. 2048, graduates with Excellence." He looks up, "Your grades are admirable, Danielle."

"Thank you." Her protective shell melts under the man's warm gaze.

"Only the top 1 graduates receive the General's Honour." He closes the folder, "And out of that 1, only those who pass the Test Combat deserve the President's Excellence Award."

"You're making it sound really difficult, sir." Danielle chuckles timidly.

"But isn't it?" His grey eyes bear deep into her own hazel ones.

"But of course." She answers. To say 'no' would be an outright lie. Every year graduates lose limbs while participating in the Test Combat. Some say the Test Combat is almost as cruel as the war itself. Danielle was lucky that she faced a classmate who did not particularly excel in field combat. She took him down after spending 30 minutes in the machine, sustaining only minor injuries.

"Anyways, it's impressive. Personally, I don't approve of such testing methods." He leans back casually in his chair, "It's almost barbaric to have our own students battle against each other just to claim some plaque."

"But sir," the words escape her mouth, "it's because..." she realizes her blunder and stops, "sorry."

"No, no," He waves her apology away, "it's interesting hearing the opinion of someone who actually just came out of the test. Go on."

She takes a deep breath, "It's because this way, the students really get a first hand experience of what it's like being out on the field."

"Danielle," He stands up and walks over to the window, her gaze follows him. "What exactly does 'being out on the field' mean?"

"Well, it means just being out there...getting the job done...fighting." She blinks, isn't it?

"It means fighting in the war." His back is turned to her, the fall sunlight illuminates his tall figure against the window pane.

"I suppose..." She frowns, confused, where is he getting at?

"War is old men talking, young men dying." He chuckles.

"Troy." She pauses, then adds, "You got that from Troy."

He turns, stretches his back. "Very nice, I love that movie."

"Me too." She smiles, it looks like they agree on something after all.

"But Danielle," He walks over to her and sits in front of her, on the desk. "you've got to understand that war is not all glory."

"I know, sir." She looks up at him, confused once again.

"War is brutal. People die in wars." His face expressionless. "No matter how much I emphasize this to these new comers to Central every year, they always rush out during the first battle and before they know it, get killed. And me and Jo would have to send a letter to their family. Us, the bad news bearers." He looks away and chuckles.

"Sir you needn't worry about that with me, sir." She looks away too, down to her own folded hands. "I don't have a family. Saves you a whole lotta trouble, right?"

He looks back. "I'm sorry, Danielle."

"It's ok, sir. It was a long time ago." She looks at him and smiles casually.

"Hey, but you know what?" He puts a hand on her shoulder, "You'd save me a lot more trouble if you don't go get yourself killed." He pats her once then chuckles, "at least not on the first dawn, huh?"

She blinks, then grins. "No sir, at least not on the first dawn. Promise."

"That's a good girl." He sits back in his chair. "Now go on, Shirley's outside and she'll let you know where your home's going to be for the next while."

"Yes sir." She jumps to her feet, maybe a little too fast, almost knocking the chair down. He smiles kindly. "Thank you sir. Good day." She salutes to him and him back to her, exuding the same warmth as when she had came in.


End file.
